Darkness Falls
by marasydnyjade
Summary: RE-WRITTEN AND REVISED --- Alanna and Jon have one last adventure together, from which they might not come back.
1. Chapter one

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in Tortall, Tamora Pierce does.

I am re-working this story to be what I always wanted it to be. I will resolve it. I promise. However, in the process, I will be removing certain bits, including my random rants that were in the original version. However, if you never read the story or my inspiration for this story I submit the following

I always wanted to know why Jon was such a jerk about Alanna marring him while the two of them were in the desert, for that part has always vexed me. Suddenly, one day, as I was reading "Woman Who Rides Like a Man" it hit me, as Alanna is scolding the current Voice about his illness, that any village healer could of taken care of in the beginning, he says to her the key to Jon's behavior. To each Voice is known his own end. HA! It is my belief that during the ceremony to become the Voice of the Tribes, Jon saw his end, and he saw Alanna there with him. Thus, he assumed that they would get married, that was why he took advantage of the fact that she was going to say yes to his proposal. This story is based on that premise.

* * *

In all the years that they had been friends, companions, confidants, consolers the truth never occurred to her. Never once did she catch a glimpse of the secret that he had held all those years. She should have known, she should have seen. She was his friend, his best friend.

Even best friends didn't know what the other held in his heart. In his mind. In the dreams of his soul.

Years after their falling-out the two had sat commiserating about children, future generations and getting old. She never noticed the shadow in his eyes when they spoke of their spouses. She never thought that she would have been so oblivious to what was lying in front of her.

She was a practical woman, a warrior, a hard worker. She had never picked the easy path in life. And why should she start in death?

Destiny. It was destiny that they would be together. Not in life. Not the way that they should have been. Not the way that they had been fated.

He knew. He had always known. He had known the day that she yelled, and fought, and turned him down. He had known as he fought back, as he rode away, leaving her to cry alone.

As he departed, foul in mood, he cursed the vision in his head. Believed that it had lied to him. But he knew it hadn't, he know that it was fate.

Frankly, it had never occurred to her. She had never realized the reason he was so cocky, so sure she would say yes. She was so caught up in her own pride that she didn't look at the signs that were in front of her.

She knew what would have happened during the ceremony. Ali Mukhtab had told her weeks before. The old Voice looked her in the eyes and told her, his voice grave with the tone of a person who was trying to teach a most important lesson.

They were now old and tired. Death could no longer be delayed; it was as real as the chair that she was sitting in. The room was dark and chilled, and there was not a sound uttered. So different from the last time she had walked in to see him on his deathbed. There were no priests, no healers, it was his time to go, and he was determined to accept it gracefully. It was only the "when" that was the question now. The question on everyone's mind, "when will he die?" Like she had times before, as his squire and lover, as his champion and friend, she sat vigil over him, praying to the gods to keep him safe in the journey to come. It was just him and her. Nothing more, and nothing less. And soon that room would be empty, with neither of them ever coming back.

She knew she loved him, she always had, but she had allowed her mind to deny her heart, although she knew that they would always end up together. So there she sat, on a chair, holding his hand in a room where only she was allowed. Friends could not stop in, and his family had kept vigil in the King's Study, for they knew it was useless to attempt to see him in his chambers.

There was no need for words; they had past that point a very long time ago, and they no longer needed them to communicate. They knew each other's thoughts and dreams, felt the other's fears and insecurities. She wondered when he had realized her fate at his side, when he knew that they could not live apart, seeing each other only as friends, only as companions.

All that they had left to do was wait. Wait for nightfall and their escape.

Everything had been readied; all they needed to do was watch the sun fall, walk to the courtyard, where their horses waited, and leave for the desert. The desert. The place where she had tried to deny fate many years ago. What had made her so headstrong, and what had made him so sure of himself? Only in the darkness is each able to understand the other's motives. Only in darkness are things revealed.

She had just found her independence. She had finally conquered her demons and had found balance in her life. No longer hiding from parts of herself, she had embraced them, allowing new joys to come through. He just didn't fit in with the 'new' her. He was a remembrance of the past, of her old life, a place where she was insecure and constantly on guard. Where she couldn't relax ever, where she had to always look over her back for fear of someone there. Her actions were strangely justified, especially after her capture by the enemy so long ago. They had been ready for her, they had known her strengths, and had prevented her from getting the upper hand; she had known that someone had betrayed her, and the prospect of another attempt always loomed over her. Not long before the desert she had been able to crush her old demons, quite literally, they were no longer in the mortal world.

But to fate, that was merely an obstacle, it could not be swayed from its path.

She remembered those first few years, the two of them had settled into a quiet routine, only speaking about superficial matters, and avoiding being alone with the other as much as was possible. Myles knew, as he had always known, he had been at the desert with them, had seen the love that the two of them had shared for so long. He saw it again when she came back from the desert for the second time, George in tow, with a wedding band around her finger. She glittered in the darkening night of her return, standing outside the courtyard joking with her friends. She was regretful when Jon had come out, after he was able to escape the social gathering inside. A shadow came over her face, and a longing appeared in her eyes. After that first greeting they were not again seen together in non-governmental situations.

Alanna could still feel the pain that she had felt that day, George's ring weighed heavy on her finger, looking at the man that she had loved for so long, claimed by another woman. Before it had not seemed over, until marriage there was still hope for our heroes and their love, but like star-crossed lovers, there was to be no happy ending. She spent little time in the Capital, instead roaming the countryside on the King's business, if anyone thought they were avoiding each other, not a word was spoken.

As the years waned and the calendar advanced, slowly they faded out of the spotlight, there was a new generation of female knights for the people to look to, and as the Old King grew older his heir took over more and more responsibility. Quietly, Alanna retired to Trebond, her parents' holding, where she sat, refusing audiences, and watched the town children play in the gardens.

It was there that the Royal Messenger had found her, looking out the window in the Study where her father had sat, staring down at his twins, telling them about their future lives. It was where she had sat on his death, where she cried as his memory faded away. She moved slowly as she acknowledged the Messenger, battle scars had crippled her body. Her violet eyes shone with glory of days passed, and deep within their depths lay the pain of someone who had lost their love. It was a simple missive, with none of the flourished writing that was so common in their youths. The writing was shaky, and not in the hand of a scribe, it was blotted in a few places, as if the writer was pondering over what to say next.

The letter was nothing like what Alanna had expected. It contained no sadness, just an urgent need for her arrival at Corus. She stared at the letter for some time, not paying attention to the waning day. At some point, the messenger must have left the room, but Alanna did not notice his exit. She could hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet in the hallway, an obvious sign that Thom had arrived with his wife and children in tow, and soon they would find her. She had no desire to mask the depression that she had been feeling for months now, so when little hands made little knocks she didn't say a word.

She made a split-second decision, the sort by which empires are created, and men destroyed; she went to her rooms, grateful that George was out for the day, checking on land in the North. Scurrying around her room, she packed a few sets of clothing, and other necessities into dirty saddlebags that held not the insignia due to her title and rank. Slipping down to the stables she cloaked herself and her horse, a descendant of her Moonlight, so that they would not be seen, and set off in a gallop south.

It was much later that Thom entered the study to look for his mother, surprised that she wasn't in the dark room, he caught sight of a letter baring the Royal Seal, addressed to his mother.

_Alanna, _

_It is time. The days are getting darker. Come._

_Jon_

Fear rose in Thom, from deep in his stomach, reaching to the back of his throat, he could feel the bile in his mouth. He sprinted over to his parents' room, hoping to see everything in order, when he opened the door, his terror was justified. Realizing that there was nothing he could do now, he took the letter in hands and threw it into the burning flames, it was up to the two of them now, he knew not to interfere with destiny.

At a full gallop and using part of her gift, Alanna was able to slip into Corus right before the gates closed the next night. She left her horse at an inn not far from the gates, buying the stable boy's silence with a silver noble. She made her way to the palace on foot, trying not to bring attention to herself from the bustling merchants as they made their way home from the marketplace. Since there was no way that she could sneak past the guards that patrolled the main gates that entered into the palace, she merely pulled up her hood and greeted the men in a deep voice, hoping that they would mistake her for a squire or perhaps a servant. She walked quickly through the halls of the palace where she had once lived, once bleed, once loved, and once lost. She made her way to the Royal Chambers, directly to the rooms she knew that Jon stayed in.

Duke Gareth of Naxen, once know as Gareth the Younger, sat outside of his cousin's room, discouraging priests and clerks alike from entering the room, allowing entry to no one, not even his Queen. Raoul, who sat in the chair in intervals with Gareth, sat in silence.

Gareth watched the retreating figure of the Queen, who had passed by on her circuit of the palace residence, wondering how much longer he and Raoul would be able to thwart visitors, his eyes searched for the one person who would be allowed into the room, the one who would be able to end the misery of the past few weeks.

As Alanna approached the King's chambers, she caught sight of Gary and Roul. Wondering how to get past the men who was sitting in front of the door, she decided to approach them directly, so that she could find out why they were sitting sentry at the door of the King. She pulled down her hood, exposing her hair, and even though it had faded with age, it was still unmistakable for her own.

Gareth started when he saw the brilliant red hair that obviously belonged to Alanna, glad to see his friend and savior scarce feet in front of him. He stood, and without a word, opened the door gesturing for her to enter the darkness. Raoul stood as well, and grasped her into a quick, tight hug, before nodding and returning to his chair.

Jonathan could hear what was going on outside the doorway, he could hear his wife walk past, as she did often. He heard the slight scrape of two chairs against the flagstone. He heard the door open, and he heard Alanna come into the room. He lay in his bed, looking at the fire which burned in the hearth, the flames reminded him so much of the last time he was on his deathbed, and Alanna came and pulled him out of the clutches of the Black God. She had pulled him through the flames, into safety, into life.

"Alanna. You came." He murmured as he took her hand in his.

"Yes, yes I did."

After that, things moved quickly, with both Raoul and Gary planning the escape of Monarch and Champion.


	2. Chapter two

Thom looked out the window of the study in his ancestral home of Trebond, those who cared about rank and such, would tell you that the Trebond family had been around since the Book of Gold, and was undeniably noble. Probably insane too, Thom thought, as it often occurred in noble families, due to inbreeding. The door behind him creaked, and Thom's wife walked in. She caught sight of her husband, and knew immediately that something was wrong. "What's the matter?" She asked in a soft voice.

Thom never tore his gaze from the window.

"The fates are angry, they have been denied for too long."

* * *

The plans were set, the players in place, the only thing that our protagonists had left to do was wait.

Wait. That was the theme of Jon's life. He waited for his Alanna to accept his proposal, he waited for his father to die, he waited for Alanna's return, he waited for the Immortal War to break out, he waited for a female page. He was always waiting for something, or someone. And now he waited to die. He could not deny that it was going to happen, no, he could longer avoid the Black God. As twilight started to fal, he wondered how much longer he was going to have to hold on to the mortal world. He looked over at Alanna, the women he had loved all of his life, sitting in a chair near the hearth, reading over a report, making notations in her tight, neat script. Running the country, as she should have been doing as his queen. But he knew that the life of Queen would have never satisfied his Lioness.

The cold light of falling darkness filtered through the drawn curtains, bathing the room in a grey glow. The fire highlighted the dust particles as they floated through the air, moving with invisible air currents. Their waltz through the air was only noticed in the light of the sun, without it, there were never noticed, they were forgotten, as if they never existed. Life was much like these particles, only in solid form for a few, short moments, then the light went out, and they became completely forgotten. Five hundred years from now their mortal shells would be gone, their person's forgotten, perhaps their realm gone, the realm that they had lived an died for a mere whisper from the past. It was depressing to think of, Jon mused, but at the crossroads to immortality, somehow fitting. His eyes fell once again on Alanna, her copper hair shining in the light, calm, serene, unlike her emotions on the battlefield, yet in her stance one could see a hint of steel that was as much a part of her as her fiery hair. She looked up and caught his gaze, he imagined that it was decades ago, when they were still young, and optimistic about their lives. Before heartache and terror had forced them down with the weight of living. He broke the gaze, attempting to stop the connection that was deeper than life.

"George . . ." he said, trying to remind himself of why she had never taken her rightful place at his side.

"In the North, handling some dispute in a small village. He won't even be back to Trebond until later this week."

"Have you been here long?"

"I arrived last night," she said, looking out of the window, "I had things to take care of." She fell silent, allowing the questions of her errands thicken the space between them.

She began again, upon realizing that he would not question her."It was time for someone else to know what it is like to experience destiny."

Silence fell over the two of them once again. They said things without saying them, felt things without physical recognition.

Outside Raoul and Gary sat still and silent. They too knew what the elongating shadows of the coming night would bring to them and the country.

Tears filled Alanna's eyes, threatening to spill over on to her face. Jonathan sat up and in a show of strength made his way across the room to take her in his arms. They spent some time there, him holding her until tears no longer spilled down her face and sobs did not shake her body anymore.

The two figures turned to the window, and saw that darkness had fallen completely. Torches dotted the night, marking pathways. The moon, nearly full, shone brightly with the light it stole from its daylight equivalent.

Alanna took Jon's hand in hers. "I'm scared." He said.

She smiled. "I'm scared too. At least we can be scared together."

The door opened, spilling light into the black room. Raoul's head appeared. "It's time to go now," he said. His voice quiet, soft.

Jon looked at Alanna, then Raoul, and Gary, who had gotten up to stand behind Raoul. He suddenly felt energized in a way he had not felt since his mother had died decades ago.

Second thoughts filled his mind, and the full weight of what he was about to do hit him. "Do you think," he started hoarsely, "do you think that, well, Roald . . . "

Alanna looked at him, wondering where this new insecurity had come from. He had always been so stable, so sure of himself; it was disheartening to see him so unsure. It was also a bit refreshing. "Roald is more prepared than you ever were."

He grinned, his white teeth flashing in the darkness. Chuckling, he sighed, " I don't know whether that was a compliment or an insult. But I assume it was a little of both, and so I will take it in stride, gracefully." He bowed to her, mockingly. "I suddenly feel invigorated." He outstretched his arm, "Milady, would you give me the pleasure . . ."

Alanna laid her hand on his arm and the two of them left the room together. Raoul and Gary brought up the rear.


End file.
